


Oh Sh---

by Springmagpies



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, okay, there's some swearing (or a lot of swearing) but its the whole plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springmagpies/pseuds/Springmagpies
Summary: Fitz hadn't meant to say the word and when his five-year-old daughter repeats it and argues she has a right to say it too, he finds it rather hard to argue with her.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 20
Kudos: 56





	Oh Sh---

**Author's Note:**

  * For [for_the_love_of_wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/gifts).



> This is for the lovely Nadja who is a gift to mankind! I hope you like this fluffy family fic.

Fitz hadn’t meant to say it, but the word had just slipped from his lips.

“Shite!”

His son James, with the sudden outstretching of his little hand, had knocked the container of baby food right out of his hands and all over the both of them. The little one, with happy blue eyes alight, had the peas and carrots in his curls and all over his jumper. Fitz, who had only fared slightly better in the vegetable explosion, had it all over his hands, some on forehead, and a fair bit in his short beard. 

“Uh oh,” James singsonged, looking over the side of his highchair at the baby spoon that had clattered to the floor, spreading more food to the previously clean floor.

“Uh oh,” came a happy little echo from the ground. With a dramatic flourish, the spoon was quickly returned to the tray by a person on the ground.

Fitz, wiping the orange puree from off his son, turned his gaze towards the floor where his eyes locked with his daughter’s, Maisie’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as her cheeks pulled up with a smile. 

“You said a naughty word,” she piped up merrily. Fitz didn’t think the tiny point she gave him with her marker-covered finger was necessary.

“Yes, but it was warranted.”

She narrowed her eyes and gave him a smirk. “Mummy said not to say shite.”

Fitz raised his eyebrows at his daughter. “No, she said  _ you  _ weren’t to say shite.”

“How come you can say shite and I can’t say shite.”

“Because it’s a naughty word,” he sighed. Fitz stood up from his stool, carefully avoiding spreading the mashed food to more of himself, and went to the sink to wet a rag for Jame’s face. “And since it’s a naughty word we should stop saying it.”

There was a huff before the kitchen went semi quiet. Fitz carefully stepped over his daughter, who was laying on her stomach and propped up on her elbows as she colored, as he came back to wipe the food off his son. The trio worked in semi-silence for a moment before Fitz heard a tapping of marker against the hardwood and he knew his daughter was forming her thoughts for some sort of argument. 

Maisie shifted her head slightly to one side and huffed. “Why is shite a naughty word?”

“I don’t know--ouch, monkey! Don’t pinch Da’s nose please.”

“Why don’t you know?”

“Because I haven’t thought about it.”

There was more tapping and another huff. Picking up James from the highchair, Fitz was just able to catch Maisie as she furrowed her brow in a way that made him expect Jemma’s voice to leave her mouth.

“What does shite mean?”

“It means poop,” he answered simply. When it came to raising their children, Fitz and Jemma had been adamant about not shying away from words to do with bodily functions and anatomy.

_ “We’re scientists,” Jemma had said firmly, “I’m not saying pee pee.” _

“Why is it okay if we say poop but not shite?”

_ Shite,  _ Fitz thought,  _ she has a point. _

“Because shite is impolite to say and you really shouldn’t go around screaming poop either.”

“But you said poop is normal--”

“It is--”

“Mummy bought a book when we went to the bookstore and it said poop. And that was in a book. Mummy bought the book.”

“Yes, mummy bought the book,” Fitz echoed, trying to distract his son with his toy monkey as he held him on his hip while simultaneously trying to figure out how he got into the conversation he was having with his daughter. 

“And yes, poop is normal, but we don’t say shite.”

“But you say it all the time. You just said it.”

“Yes, but I’m an adult.”

Maisie was not taking that as an answer, sitting up on her knees and raising an eyebrow.

“So?”

“So,” Fitz continued, “it means I’m allowed to swear more. Adults are allowed to say swears sometimes and when you’re an adult you can swear all you like. But right now you are too little to say shite.”

“I’m not little, I’m five. James is little.”

“Five is still little compared to me and mummy though,” Fitz countered.

“But you said age doesn’t matter.”

“When did I say that?”

She tucked a brown curl behind her ear, “At the bookstore.”

“When at the bookstore?”

“When we got the ladybug book and the dinosaur book and the one with the pop up pictures and mummy said we couldn’t get the robot book because she didn’t like robots. Remember, daddy?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I said I wanted the ladybug book but the sign said six and up and  _ you _ said age didn’t matter and that if I wanted the ladybug book then I could get the ladybug book.”

Yes, he had in fact said that.

“Well, swears are different than books.”

“I don’t think so.”

Fitz couldn’t help but smile at the determination in his daughter’s eyes. “I’m sorry monkey but you can’t say shite.”

“Then you can’t either.”

“Oh, I can’t?”

“Nope. We’re a team and teams play fair and if I can’t say shite then you can’t either.”

Handing the monkey over to James, Fitz turned to face his daughter. Her face was set and her chin was high. She wasn’t backing down any time soon.

“How about we make a rule.”

“What rule?”

“We don’t say shite around mummy.”

Masie looked down the tip of her nose. “But mummy says shite too.”

“Yes--well--she wouldn’t want you saying it. It’s--”

“Not polite.” 

Maisie bit her lip for a moment, considering her father’s offer. Seeing that she wasn’t going to get a better deal, she nodded her head in agreement. “Okay,” she said firmly, “deal.”

Just as Fitz was going to turn to change his son’s clothes, there was a rattling thump as James’ toy monkey fell to the floor.

The boy made a little humph sound reminiscent of his father before, in his tiny cooing voice uttered the word, “Shite.”


End file.
